This day. This amazing day. He shines his smile, hitting anyone in its way with warmth and charm. He grows. He works harder than I have ever seen him work. As he rode in the train with his nurse, his head thrown back to release the exulting joy to be moving in something so gleeful. I marvel at his delight, as he moves with the tiny tot train made from a riding mower. The man or engineer looked over sized for such a vehicle. He smiled and waved at all who connected visually. The Buddy Walk never had a train before. This year’s train was great for the excitement children were already thinking when Christmas truly arrives.
Before arriving to the Annual Buddy Walk, we sat in the car, patiently waiting for the traffic to change because the light had, however, no one was moving, and red-blue sirens were sounding in my rear view mirror, impatiently waiting for the traffic to find a way to pull aside and let them through. It became a sudden reminder of a day not so far away, where my angel was in need of rescue. My oldest son said, “Mommy, someone got hurt?”
“Yes, Sam”, was my reply. “Pray for them.”
“Dear Jesus, please make the hurt person all better. Amen”
“Amen.” I kept looking around to see how bad the situation was, and whether I had it worse. I did. Thankfully, two of the three drivers were able to leave their cars. The third seemed unconscious. Rescue workers were checking her pulse and neck. I turned away from watching, realizing I would cause another accident if I didn’t turn my focus in front of me. Our thoughts sober and thinking about the unconscious driver; her windshield broken, the air bag released. When I turned to my rear view mirror centered on my angel, I noticed his head stacked forward as if his neck didn’t have strength to hold up his head. As we pulled in to the parking area, I noticed he still didn’t move. We awakened him with water. He perked up some, but seemed to wilt like a flower in too much sun. We pushed ourselves toward a shaded area where he could flourish, and he did. Swinging his arms vivaciously whenever the train came by him.
My reflections tell me we are not alone. As my angel continues to progress and find his way back home to his immensely loving family, I know that he is different and will remain different. I may or may not be dealing with a complete child. He has great lengths to go.His “isms” remain uniquely his own. Thankfully, this amazing day held much more healing.